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The stars of my homeward were bright. Among my people, the Detukins of Anama-5,
starlight was the light for man’s true heart. In the daytime the twin suns of Anama are burning,
and only necessary work may be done, the gathering of fruits and of water, some hunting in the
yellow dawn and red dusk. But at night the Five Sisters, bright silvery moons, cast their cooling
glow, and the many stars of the galactic bar provide light and movement. Here the real work can
begin: meals eaten, trade conducted, love made, and killing. We are a people who delight in
killing, and as such, we have as many rules of killing as we have stars, and as many ways to
judge and appreciate it. It is simply what makes us who we are. My father used to say that a
killing was not truly done until the souka, the Village, had discussed it.